Slumrat Rising

Truth and the cousins stayed in the little conference room while the Congress went into convulsions. They were not kept in the loop, which Truth reckoned was just as well. He wouldn’t know the ins and outs of the various relationships anyhow. He wasn’t sure how he felt about this… duel thing. He knew what duels were in an abstract sort of way. It’s just that they had no connection to his life. And he was really not happy about Etenesh getting into a life-and-death fight where he couldn’t interfere.

“So… don’t take this the wrong way, but have you ever killed another human being?” Truth asked. He really couldn’t think of how you should ask that question, so he opted for being direct. This was apparently not the correct choice, as Etenesh suddenly went very still and quiet.

“No. I have fought spirits, demons, ghosts, things like that. But I’ve never done more than spar with another human.”

“Humans freeze up when you get in their face. They panic. They make bad choices. Soldiers train all the time because you never suddenly get good at making decisions under stress. You just learn what to do so you don’t have to make decisions. You did all your thinking in advance. Your body knows what to do.” Truth explained. Etenesh looked at him blankly.

Truth spun his hand in the air, trying to figure out how to explain something that seemed obvious to him. “You already know this on some level. I've seen you fight. You raise a ward to give yourself time to think, and then you plan out what ritual spell you want to cast.”

Truth wasn’t sure she was getting it. “You do everything you can to give yourself space to think and react calmly. It’s not necessarily a bad thing. It could be a good thing or the right thing. But unless the duel has rules about how you can fight, it’s a dangerous thing to try against another human.”

Etenesh gave him a half smile. “Well, the fight is two religious studies students battling it out, no demons, no attending spirits, with limits on the prepared charms. Neither of us has equipment like your sword. Before either of us go on the sands, we will be checked out by both seconds and a neutral third party. So it’s going to be who has the better talismans, better spells, better skills, and most importantly, God’s favor.”

Truth instinctively knew that arguing with the girl you like was a low percentage play. On the other hand, he didn’t want to see her dead. He tried to think of what to say. More importantly, he tried to think of how to make her hear what he was trying to tell her.

“You look like you disagree. What am I missing?” Etenesh asked.

Truth looked down at his hands for a moment. “If I were to go fight Alemu right now, using only my bare hands and Incisive, do you think I would win?”

Etenesh started talking, stopped, started again, and stopped again.

“I want to say no because he’s going to be attended by at least one and probably several powerful spirits, and he certainly would have several protective amulets. But I kind of see you winning too. The way you just charge in through everything and rabidly attack until whatever you are fighting is dead. Except now that I know you, I know it’s not blind aggression. You are solving the “violence puzzle” as efficiently as you can.”

“Right, exactly that. Fights with other humans are very fast, very intense, scary.” Well, for most people. They hadn’t bothered him since his breakthrough to Level One. Thank you, Rough Patron?

“So…” Etenesh encouraged him to finish the thought.

“So up your aggression. Rush the bastard. Tweak your loadout to deploy everything as fast as possible, and while he’s dealing with it, THEN cast your wards. Then, if he’s still alive, somehow, you have the time to cast bigger spells.”

“Dueling culture isn’t really a thing where you’re from, is it?”

“No. Not at all.”

“So how did you-” She stopped again, then smiled wryly. “You didn’t resolve disputes of honor formally. You just killed the bastard who insulted you.”

“Not me personally, but yes. Or you ate the humiliation and seethed, taking it out on weaker people.”

“Hah. Well. The duel won’t happen for three days at the soonest. Any suggestions on how to train?”

Find people who won’t be missed and are weaker than you. Build your courage by slaughtering them. I’ll tell you they are villains, so you don’t feel bad giving in to the slaughter. I’ll persuade you that it’s ok; it’s not fucked up. That way, the violence will touch you more lightly, though it will touch you, and you will never be the same, never ever.

“In the time we have? Build up your courage. Develop your killing intent.”

“How?”

Well. Even if she would go along with his plan, Merkovah wouldn’t. And he didn’t think Etenesh actually would go along with it.

“Ever square up against someone ready to kill you? Not a demon, a human?”

“No.”

Truth stepped away from her. Turned and faced her. “I want you to know that I won’t attack you. You will feel like I am about to attack you, but I won’t. Jember is here with you. You aren’t alone. You just need to cast one spell or order your spirit to touch me. That’s it. It is that easy to make it stop.”

“Eh?”

Truth had wondered why people locked up when they squared up against him in basic. He had just assumed it was because he had spent so much time fighting. The lock-up thing happened with some other people too. Now, though, he had to wonder. Was this part of his patron’s legacy?

He extended his arm and pointed his finger at Etenesh. “Come.”

To her credit, Etenesh didn’t faint. After the first time, she didn’t freeze up long, either. “It’s like jumping into a cold shower,” She explained. “It’s never nice, but you get used to pushing yourself into it.” After she got used to working under the pressure alone, Truth started changing things up. He would suddenly draw his sword. Coat his arm with Incisive. Shout suddenly. He began moving around, darting from side to side or faking an attack. Little constant tweaks to maintain pressure, but vary the source of stress. Jember asked if he could join in the training, and since Etenesh was wearing out fast, Truth nodded.

It wasn’t exactly a fun way to pass the afternoon, but at the end of it, Etenesh and Jember had toughed up some. Not a waste of a day.

The evening came with a storm cloud shaped like Merkovah. To Truth’s eyes, he still looked twenty-five. Still had a beard that looked like it was trying to escape his face. Still looked like a damn clown in those formal robes of his. The palpable rage coming off him made him a lot less funny.

“Due to the “unforeseen, unfortunate interruption,” the Congress has decided to do what it should have done in the first place and set up a working group to study the talisman. Tommy, we will discuss your role in this further later.” Merkovah growled.

“Having made that stupendous decision and averting a sectarian riot for at least the day, the Congress voted to dissolve pending further developments. ALL THAT, for something that could have been resolved by sending a note around! And now, my student’s going to fight a duel!”

Truth and the cousins shared a look with each other. What could you even say?

“Has the fish been ordered?”

“Yes, it will be delivered along with your note. Have you written it yet?”

“Not yet,” Etenesh said. “Tommy was training us to endure killing intent.”

“Oh.” Merkovah’s eyebrow went up. “Good thinking. Here, I brought some good paper.” He handed it to Etenesh. “Be sure to start with an allusion to geese or other domestic fowl.”

“Alright.” Etenesh agreed but sounded puzzled. Merkovah grinned and explained.

“There is a persistent rumor circulating that, due to his crippling inability to please a woman, Alemu has followed in his Mentor’s footsteps and has taken a goose for a mistress. Not some manner of goose spirit, an actual, literal goose. The details are quite lurid.” Merkovah radiated grim disapproval. Truth imagined he would look more forgiving of bandits burning down a village.

“Well-documented and thoroughly sourced reports of Teacher Ferrenet’s hands-on teaching methodology have circulated for years. He is famous for saying that there is no substitute for experiential learning in any aspect of our lives, and these reports show just how committed he is to the spiritual and intellectual growth of his student. Some even accompanied by distressingly accurate pictures, clearly drawn from life.”

Merkovah looked pious and slightly ill. “I can only assume his connections to the Palace have protected him from prosecution.”

Merkovah dispelled the mood with a grin. “It’s been a lot of fun making up the reports. Though I do have to hire the artists, as I’m no hand with a brush. Ferrenet’s been on my list for twenty years now.”

The grin faded away into something altogether colder. “He absolutely dotes on Alemu. He’s close friends with the Duke. He might not have known about Mr. Wells in advance, but Alemu was clearly acting on instructions from someone. In concert with many others.”

His eyes bored into Etenesh. “Break him, then kill him. Siphios must be saved, yes, but they would destroy us for that cause. Shatter the nation before the invaders walk in and take over. So kill him. Show him that you, and we, are the righteous of the land.”

Etenesh’s eyes were dyed a ruddy orange as she fiercely nodded.

_______________________________

“I am a little surprised at how strongly you reacted to alcohol, Mr. Wells. I know you don’t drink, but rumor has it, the only reason Alemu still has his head was Etenesh hanging from your sword arm.” Truth looked around Merkovah’s room at Temple Nag-Hamadi. It was functionally identical to his own, save for the bigger chest and more bookshelves. It was alarmingly spare. Didn’t he have a wife in the Xandre? Was this just a place to rest?

“Bad memories.”

“Recovering alcoholic?”

“My father and, to a lesser extent, my mother. And not recovering, no.”

“That is a hard thing to live through. And your siblings? I think you mentioned them?”

“I protected them as best I could. They are free of my parents now.”

“Back in the old country. Working for your… former employer?”

“One is. Don’t know about the others.” Truth shook his head. Why was he telling Merkovah all this?

“Well, leaving that to the side, the reason Alemu managed that stunt was because you didn’t have Incisive cast.”

“Wasn’t sure about the rules on using magic in the Well, to be honest.”

“The rules are many and varied, to be sure. And who cares? A rule is only a rule to the extent that it’s enforced. I’m a senior fellow of the University, as well as an… officer of the Throne. You are my bodyguard. Cast away. If anyone dares ask you why, just stare them down and send them to me.”

“You want me to have Incisive running all the time?”

“As much as you reasonably can, yes. You are a bodyguard, Mr. Wells. You are making some strides in your magic resistance and great leaps in your understanding of Incisive. Your growth in level is rather excellent too. I won’t mention your disturbingly fast reflexes. There is no reason anyone under level five should ever ambush you.”

“I’ll do what I can. Speaking of ambushes, what is going to be my role in the investigation?”

“As close to none as I can manage. I will probably keep you around the Temple, guarding the conference here. People asked where you were today.”

“No kidding?”

“Nope. It seems that Desrins armed with swords, particularly tall, handsome ones, are in high demand recently. Why, we may never know.” Merkovah’s grinned.

Then he added, “Also, to whatever extent you can, try to be low-key. Between the terrorist attack and the poisoning today, even the witless public has caught on that someone is trying to start a civil war. The Desrin, as a sizable minority in Siphios, are understandably on edge and feeling… chippy. So let's keep things quiet and try to let the heat die down.”

“Yes, Teacher,” Truth said. Then, remembering his Rough Patron’s warning, felt the need to add “as best I can.”

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